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#plum for #wankwednesday.

August 11, 2011

This weeks Wank Wednesday prompt is #plum, proffered by the lovely @eroticnotebook, this is my addition.

PLUM.

“So?” exclaimed Elise, “which one?” she shook two tubes of lipstick in my direction.

“Well, like I said, it depends on the effect you want. If you’re going for sweet and innocent, go with the Pink Ice, if you want dark and sultry, go with the Plum” I replied. Elise tutted and rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed with my answer.

“Can’t you ever just make a decision? huh? be assertive? Fuck Leigh, get off the fence for once will you? It’s only fucking lipstick! which one do you prefer?”

I stared hard at her, I hated it when she got like this. What the fuck did I know about which colour lipstick went with which of her sparkly, feathery outfits? She was the artist, she was the one who decided which routine she would perform that night, and which slinky combination of corset and feathers would look best. She sighed and shook her head, then quickly smeared the dark, plum coloured stain expertly over her lips and grabbed her feather fans. I began to protest, stuttering that if it was so trivial why would she make such a big deal about it. I knew it was the wrong thing to say. My heart sank as she simply shook her head and bustled out of the room towards the stage. I followed her toward the curtains that shielded her from the audience, digging myself further into a dangerous hole as we walked.

We had discussed this issue before and I felt that this time we were getting perilously close to the deal breaker. I was going to lose her.

“You know, Leigh, sometimes I just want you to take charge a bit” Unlike most of the other incidents of this type she didn’t shout, or throw things at me, she spoke quietly, like a disappointed parent. Luckily, before I could say anything else and make the situation worse, the music started to pulse from the giant speakers beside us and Elise swayed toward the chair that was placed in the centre of the stage.  As she moved, a cluster of feather tails that covered her bottom swayed hypnotically from side to side, I felt as though the breath had been knocked from me.

She placed her right foot on the seat of the chair and positioned her body for the opening steps of her routine. Seconds later, the spotlight flooded over her and the crowd began to cheer, clap and whistle.  She was dazzling, stunning even. Her hair, partly held in a loose top knot and tastefully shot through with occasional feathers, tumbled in curls around her face and over her delicate shoulders. Diamonds dripped from her ears, her throat and her wrist. Her glamorous face  and glittery bustier shimmered under the lights. A hush descended over the crowd as she began to move. Her boot clad feet stepped nimbly over the boards as she twisted, fluttered and twirled her fans, skillfully concealing the writhing, flexing body that hid there.

Her body. One that I had stroked and kissed, caressed and cradled over and over again. I felt a sudden stab of jealousy, that she should so freely give it to them and ask for so little in return. It wasn’t enough that I adored her. As more and more of her skin was revealed, flashed in tiny flickers of movement, the tension gathered in the room. She skillfully manipulated every one of her audience, teasing and taunting us all with delicate flicks of her fans and an occasional sassy look, daring us to challenge her.

An idea came to me then, it hit me like a steam train. She needed something from me that I wasn’t sure I could deliver. I was not good at asserting myself, making demands and expecting them to be carried out was not a concept that sat well with me. But what if I wasn’t me? what if I could become someone else? Before Elise had finished her routine, I slipped away from the stage and ran to the costume room. Some of the dancers kept their outfits there and I was pretty sure I would find something of use.

I pawed quickly through the rails of outfits. There was so much glitter, fake fur and feathers in there that I began to lose heart. None of the costumes said ‘I’m going to take you. Roughly. Right now’ No, mostly they said ‘This is where fairies come to die’.  It was looking a little bit hopeless. Then I noticed, toward the back of the room, the rail that held the costumes for the male dancers at the club. I selected my outfit and went over to the dressing room table.

I grabbed a handful of gel from a tub on the counter and smeared it through my hair, combing it back until my hair lay flat against my scalp, then I tied it at the back. I quickly pulled on the shirt and pinstripe suit that I had found. It was a few sizes too big and looked a little less tailored than it was supposed to, but it had the effect of hiding my curves, all in all it was a good choice. I flipped on the Trilby hat that I had found to match the suit and stood back to look at myself in the mirror. It wasn’t exactly Hollywood, but I no longer looked like me. Perfect. Well, almost. As an afterthought, I went to Elise’s dressing table and picked up her Plum lipstick. I dragged the dark, creamy stain over my lips, the dark slash of colour stood out strongly against my pale skin. The suit gave me a sense of power and imparted an air of arrogance, the lipstick sustained my femininity. I smiled at my reflection.

I waited behind the dressing room door for Elise to come through, she would have finished her routine by now, ending with a cheeky flourish of her nipple tassels. She would be blowing kisses to the crowd and taking her bows. I held my breath as I heard her footfall approaching in the corridor.Time seemed to slow as the door swung slowly open. As she moved into the room, she caught a glimpse of me in her mirror, she gasped loudly, clearly still unaware that it was me.  I grabbed at her hair,  gripping a handful and pulling her to me. I clamped a hand over her mouth, telling her not to scream. In one fluid movement I pushed her toward her dressing room chair, and kicked the door closed behind me.

“What the fuck?” She said,  dropping her fans. She was clearly more than a little shaken and surprised by the events unfolding.  Adrenaline began to course through my blood and fired something in me.

“Shut up bitch!” I shouted pushing her forward and bending her over the back of her dressing room chair. “Just keep your mouth closed and do as you’re told and everything will be just fine. Capiche?”

“Leigh? What…?”

“Bitch, what part of ‘shut up’ did you not understand? Now, hush that pretty Plum coloured mouth of yours, before I decide to put it to work licking my cunt!” She gasped at my brazen language and blushed. I trailed my fingers down her spine as I pulled at her hair, grinding myself against her as I did. I stood back a little and spanked her twice, once on each cheek. She cried out as she felt the sting. Instantly her skin flushed and two red hand prints glowed there. I caught sight of her then, her eyes catching mine in her dressing room mirror. The slightest flicker of a smile played around her mouth.

“Please, sir, I won’t be any more bother to you, just please don’t hurt me” Her voice was becoming husky, thickened with lust.

“Spread your legs for me” I commanded her, snapping her g-string and pulling it off. “You seem like the kind of girl who likes it rough. D’you like it rough, sugar?” I rubbed my fingers over her slit, my fingers instantly slick with her juices. She moaned a little and arched her back.

“Fucking answer me, bitch!” I said, spanking her arse again.

“Yes sir, I do”

I slowly pushed two fingers inside her. Using them like a cock, my hand placed over my mound. I ground against her with my hips, hilting my fingers inside her “So, when you said ‘please don’t hurt me,’ what you actually meant was ‘take me right now, like the dirty little fuck slut that I am,’ Right?”  As I spoke I began to slide my fingers in and out of her. Gradually I built up my speed, matching the rocking of her hips to find the rhythm she needed.

“Yes, sir!” She cried, breathless.  “Whatever you fucking say, sir!” She began to push back against me with each thrust of my hips, driving my fingers deeper into her.

“That’s right baby, you’re getting the idea” I smiled. “I’m in control now, so you just be a good girl, and fuck that sweet little hungry pussy of yours against my fingers. Okay?”

“Oh, fuck! Yes sir!” She called. I felt her cunt muscles grip at my fingers, pulling and sucking at them as she came, hard, against my hand. I ground into her, and began drawing out her orgasm with upward strokes of my fingers. I had never felt her climax rise so quickly before and it was almost a disappointment that it would all be over so soon. On the other hand, the sooner we could get out of here and back to our place, the sooner we could start again, and the suit with coming with me, of course…..

From → Erotica

6 Comments
  1. Hot. I love the image of Leigh grinding against her girlfriend’s pussy and fucking her with her fingers. Very nice.

  2. Very very nice! Dx

  3. Squeaky permalink

    Whew! That was *smoking* hot! Think I need to borrow Elise’s fans…

  4. sharon permalink

    mmmmm very sexual, you could feel the tension and a lot more…. very nice
    S x

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